


Bonum Temporibus

by CitizenCobalt



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Play, Crack?, Cuddles, Cuddling without consent, Cultural Differences, Face Slapping, FrostIron - Freeform, Loki is a Tease, Love Spell, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Poor Hawkeye, Sexual Content, Some bad language, There is crack, food kink?, loki is a little shit, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitizenCobalt/pseuds/CitizenCobalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of frostiron prompts. Some will be cracky because crack is fun. </p><p>1. "I wish to lay with you and take comfort in your presence."<br/>"Then buy a damn teddy bear!"<br/>Or the one where Loki picks an inconvenient time to become affectionate.</p><p>2. It took two days of awkward breakfasts and two days of sausage jokes from Barton before Rogers sat down with Thor to explain Rule 14 of the tower. No nudity outside your living area.<br/>Or the one where Loki is naked and Tony is Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amplector

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is decent for seven years of not writing more than a paragraph. Although I've looked through my high school work and I'm just like "we need some crosses and holy water over here, stat!"
> 
> Warnings: Slash, a tiny bit of violence, some bad language, Dub/Cud (Dubious Cuddling?). If you're offended by this content, you probably should not have clicked on this after looking over the other warnings. It's a little late to be warning you now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki decides he wants to cuddle. Tony is rather opposed to the idea.

**Amplector**

**by**

**Citizen Cobalt**

**Prompt: Cuddles (Naked)**

 

"I don't want to have sex with you, tonight."

 

Tony, and he will be expecting praise handling this like an adult, tightens his grip on Loki’s hair and yanks his head up. It forces Loki’s back into a painful-looking arch and he releases a breathy moan. Fucking masochist.

 

“I’m sorry, sweetie-pie, I wasn’t listening. Can you repeat that?” Yes, this is a dick move. But he’s Tony Stark. Dick is practically his middle name.

 

Loki lets out a long suffering sigh. It’s the same sigh, Tony notes, that Thor receives when he is being particularly “brother please love me!” It’s a sound Tony does not want to hear when he’s trying to fuck said not-giving-Thor-enough-love brother. It’s almost an instant turnoff.

 

Almost.    

 

Loki’s cheeks are flushed and his hair is so dark against Tony’s fingers. He turns his head as much as he can against Tony’s grip and to look at him and his green eyes reflect the light from the arc reactor.

 

Beautiful, Tony wants to say.

 

But no way in hell is he saying that shit. Instead, he slides his hand along the long lines of Loki’s back, reveling in the hard muscle and the thin white scars that are barely felt under his fingers. Someday he’d ask what managed to leave a lasting mark on otherwise flawless skin. Even the hulk-related injuries –and there were many, god Loki just didn’t know when to quit—even those injuries resulted in nothing but a few days of whining and “attend to me Stark, that brute has unleashed violence upon my person yet again.”

 

“I do not wish for you to have me this evening,” Loki repeats.

 

And it’s back to this.

 

“Oh I see. Someone wants to top for once? I was wondering when that need to assert yourself as a man was going to pop up,” Shit. That was bad.

 

Loki’s brow furrows, but that’s the extent of his reaction. Which is bad. That little quip should have earned Tony a glare, a threat, or just a trip off the bed into the wall.

 

Shit. He looks serious for once and Tony immediately wants to draw away, to head down to his lab and spend the next two days working on his suit and his scotch.

 

Loki should never look serious. Angry, batshit crazy, batshit happy, whatever. But this plain seriousness, like they’re about to discuss a fucking relationship problem, is enough to make Tony want to run for the hills.

 

Then again, there’s also a good chance Loki is shitting him. Or testing him. He’s done that since day one of this little arrangement. Tests what Tony will stand for, what he will let slide, and probably other stupid chaos god things that make no sense to anyone but Loki.

 

If this is a test, it’s a really shitty one.

 

Tony looks down at his other hand, at the pucker clenching invitingly around his fingers. Tight, slick, heat that always seems to suck him in.

 

And Loki doesn’t want to have sex?

 

"You didn't think of saying something before I shoved my fingers up your ass?" Loki shifts and his muscles ripple around three of Tony's fingers, slick with lube and buried up to the knuckles. It sends a jolt of need down his spine and his cock twitches at the thought of being gripped by that heat.

 

"I've decided I no longer wish to have sex with you tonight," Still, Loki shivers when the caress to his back turns into a sharp rake of fingernails that leave bright pink lines across white skin.

 

"I call bullshit," He grips the back of Loki’s neck hard enough to bruise anyone else and presses his fingers hard against Loki’s prostate.

 

Loki whimpers and his hips rock back against the invading fingers. He makes no effort to silence his moans as he fucks himself back against Tony’s hand.

 

That’s Loki. Shameless and hot as hell.

 

"Seems like you want it to me," His fingers leave Loki’s ass with a wet pop and he slathers the rest of the lube over his cock.

 

It isn’t quite enough to avoid pain, but Loki and pain go together like Steve Rogers and the American flag. Oh god. Not the time to be thinking about Captain America.

 

His head just breaches that tight ring, ready to slide in, when Loki lurches forward up onto his knees, Tony’s cock slipping out of his body.

 

Tony barely as time to register anything but the fucking lack of his cock in Loki’s ass when a vicious backhand that sends his head spinning. It’s not half as hard as Loki could have hit but damn if it didn’t hurt.

“What the fuck?! Did you just bitch slap me?!” Loki rolls his eyes, as if it’s perfectly normal to slap other people around. Hell, it probably is up in Ass-Gard.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Stark.”

 

“Me be dramatic? I’m not the one slapping people! Are you going to claw my eyes out or pull my hair next?” Loki actually looks contemplative and Tony wants to kick himself for giving him any ideas. Who knows what Loki’s idea of hair-pulling might be?

 

An image of his bloody head mounted on one of the horns of that ridiculous helmet flashes through his mind and Tony is suddenly reminded of that time he had tried to explain to Thor about Midgard’s general view that the female of the species is more dangerous than the male.

 

_Thor had laughed and said, “Nay, my friends! Truly Midgard has been too long isolated from the other realms to have such a preposterous idea!”_

_Natasha’s eyebrows had shot up and even Tony took a few steps away from Thor. Barton, the lousy coward, was no more than the sound of a ceiling vent being hastily slammed shut._

_Thor continued, unaware of his imminent demise by mother Russia. “Nay, no female of any realm can compare to Loki when he has been slighted!"_

_And Thor took it upon himself to inform everyone of exactly how many of Loki’s lovers had disappeared or suffered unfortunate accidents after offending or upsetting the trickster in some way._

_Even Barton had come down from his air vent to listen. He had especially enjoyed the story of an unfortunate noble whom was still trapped in one of the tapestries in the Great Hall. No one knew how he became part of the picture. Or how to get him out._

 

It was a little unnerving to be banging the guy who could turn people into Hogwarts paintings.

 

“Are you going to slap me to death? Because I had always hoped to die from a massive orgasm. Preferably in my suit. Not from being slapped.” And his mouth just keeps running.

 

“That can be arranged. But not tonight."

 

"Good because I was aiming for a slightly lesser orgasm that doesn't involve my head getting knocked off."

 

Loki frowns and his expression is oddly reminiscent of Pepper’s “Tony, you’re being unreasonable” look.

 

“Don’t be so upset, a woman last week slapped you like this and you didn’t complain.”

 

“Well yeah, but I _deserved_ that one.”

 

A dark eyebrow goes up and Tony has to actually stop and think of something beyond the stinging in his cheek and the naked chaos god who’s currently still hard and dripping and on his knees.

 

Tony Stark has never been particularly religious, but worship just seems right up his alley when Loki’s involved.

 

Except when the worship involves cuddling. He has to put a stop to this right now.

 

Think…what the hell had he said to get slapped last week?

 

“I might have implied she was like the yellow pages.”

 

Loki has his, ‘what the hell are you talking about?’ look.

 

“A lot of fingers have done the walking?” He tries to clarify.

 

Still the look.

 

“I called her a whore?”

 

SLAP

 

“What the actual hell?!”

 

“Show some respect for women, Stark.”

 

“That’s rich coming from the guy who called Nat a mewling qui-!”

 

Loki’s third slap about knocks his head.

 

"Fucking shit that’s it!" Tony leaps onto Loki with every intention of either beating the crap out of him or beating the crap out of him until it turns into fucking. Either one will work.

 

Neither one works.

 

So maybe getting into a wrestling match with a Norse God isn’t going to be remembered as one of Tony’s smarter decisions. In fact, it’s right up there with the time he tried to teach Thor to drive and the time he decided to switch out Barton’s explosive arrows with arrows filled with super-compacted inflatable sex dolls that reflated on impact. Funny, yes. Good for PR? Not so much.

 

What follows can only be described as an epic beat down. Or simply Loki letting Tony to beat on him like a five year old girl. And Loki allows this for a few seconds before he effortlessly snags Tony’s arms and flips him onto his stomach.

 

It’s a little hard to breath with his face in a pillow and a God on his back, but that’s not the extent of Tony’s problems.

 

Loki's arm slithers around Tony and pins one of his flailing arms to his chest. The other arm goes around his neck and a hard forearm settles against his throat. A simple shift and they’re on their sides.

 

And they’re spooning. And Tony is the little spoon.

 

"Fucking hell!" Tony scrabbles at Loki's arm that is effectively cutting off his air. The hard metal of the arc reactor digs into his pinned wrist.

 

"I would like to stay like this, Stark." Loki's voice is smug against the back of his head and he relents enough to let Tony breathe.

 

"Seriously?! You want to fucking cuddle?!" Tony struggles furiously, squirms, twists, hell, puts every _ounce_ of his strength into escaping this ridiculous embrace.

 

Nothing. Loki sighs in contentment and simply snuggles closer. His cock presses up against Tony's back, still hard.

 

“This is fucking ridiculous!” Cuddling was for lovers, for girlfriends, for people you care about. Genocidal, ex-world dominating gods are not candidates for cuddling!

 

That and the unexpected affection from Loki is creating all sorts of warm feelings in Tony’s chest. Warm feelings that make him want to sink back into Loki’s embrace.

 

Warm feelings that should not be present with a fuck buddy.

 

Finally, it dawns on Tony that he’s about to be cuddled whether he likes it or not. He goes limp (mostly) and takes a moment to catch his breath. Struggling against a clingy god is hard work and he’s not in his twenties anymore, alright?!

 

"You don't want to come at all? Think of how uncomfortable you’re going to be!" Tony tries to appeal to Loki's rational side. Then realizes how stupid that is. Thor keeps claiming that his brother used to always be the calm, rationale to his brashness. All of the Avengers will admit they can see that.

 

But the crazy gives the rationale a sadistic edge that often leads to Loki abandoning logic just to watch things burn.

 

Literally, he has a thing for fire that disturbs everyone.

 

Thor says he’s coming back to sanity.

 

Tony thinks Thor’s full of shit.

 

Wanting to cuddle instead of fucking is not sanity. No matter what Pepper says.

 

"I'm fine," Loki breaths and snuggles closer.

 

"Well I'm not!" Tony shouts. He can see, not to mention feel, his goddamn prick. So alone and purple and desperate.

 

"Can I at least jerk off?" He asks, already knowing what the answer will be.

 

"Hmmm....No." Loki tightens his grip and Tony sees spots dancing at the edge of his vision, "I like you like this."

 

"You are a fucking bastard, you know that?! Why the hell I ever thought sleeping with you was a good idea is beyond me! Oh wait, that's because it wasn't a good idea! Goddamn, motherfucking, horse-loving-"

 

"Stark."

 

"-Cocksucking piece of asshole shit!"

 

"Are you finished?"

 

"I'm nowhere near fucking finished!"

 

"Be silent or I will break your neck." The arm around his neck tightens again and Tony's rant cuts off into gasps. His fingers claw at Loki's arm and it isn’t until his lungs are truly burning does Loki relax.

 

Where the hell is Jarvis when you need him?! Tony has a sneaking suspicion Loki either interfered with Jarvis, or the two had made some kind of deal. Great, Tony has created Skynet.

 

"I wish to lay with you Stark and find comfort in your presence," Loki places a soft kiss on Tony's shoulder.

 

"Surely you will not begrudge me one request?"

 

"One request my ass," Tony grumbles. But he settles and allows Loki to hold him. He concentrates on the soft pressure of Loki's chest against his back, the coolness of his skin. It is surprisingly, not all that bad.

 

Except one thing.

 

"So can I jerk off?"

 

"No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And everything becomes funny somehow. Someday I will write something epic and depressing. I'm working without a beta, so if you spot any mistakes or you think a sentence would sound better written a different way, please let me know.


	2. Ausculor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just like any group of people living under one roof, the Avengers have tower rules. Rules to fit a variety of situations. No flying through the halls. No sparring in the living room. No sex in the communal living room.  
> The rules are there for a reason.  
> And there are a lot of them.  
> Loki was only given the top ten.  
> They should have given them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working without a beta. I will most likely refine this chapter at a later date.  
> Warnings: Nudity, some swearing.

If there’s one thing Tony likes about America’s Golden Boy, it’s that he keeps a nice rigid sleep schedule. Up at 5 a.m. every morning and in bed by midnight. Unless there’s an emergency or a mission, Captain Steve Rogers changes into his Captain America boxers (a gift from Tony, god bless the Captain America product line) and hops into bed.

 

This guarantees five Steve-free hours for Tony to do whatever the hell he wants.

 

Funny thing, even though it’s his goddamn tower, he still has to abide by Steve Rogers the Wonder Mom’s lame ass rules.

 

No, Stark, you can’t fly drunk. Or do science. Bruce being sober does not make up for you being drunk.

 

No, Stark, you can’t give Jarvis his own body and reenact Terminator.

 

No, Stark, you can’t decide to become a supervillain just because Loki isn’t causing trouble and you need some way to pass the time.

 

Pfft. Rogers and his rules.

 

One rule Tony has been continuously violating is the rule about drinking excessively. Telling Tony Stark not to drink. Who the hell does Rogers think he is?

 

Oh, that’s right. He’s Captain America.

 

“Sir, I need to inform you that you have exceeded your daily alcohol intake limit set by Captain Rogers,” Jarvis says.

 

“Cap can shove his limit up his star spangled ass.”

 

“Shall I inform him of that, sir?”

 

“It's past his bedtime. Let grandpa sleep.”

 

“Excellent idea, sir. Shall I enter this sentiment into your secret diary for future review?”

 

“Log, Jarvis. It’s called a log.”

 

“Of course, how could I ever have thought otherwise?”

 

“Keep sassing me and I’ll make you talk like Spongebob,” Jarvis is completely silent and Tony counts it as a victory and takes another sip of his scotch. He’s probably going to pay for that later. Jarvis could be remarkably bitchy for an AI.

 

It’s the communal kitchen that calls to him, now. When the Avengers officially started living in his tower, Tony gave each person their own floor equipped with its own kitchen and living areas. But everyone agreed that a communal kitchen was the best idea. They could all eat meals together and…commune and all that shit.

But that’s not why he’s going there now.

 

No, he’s going there because in the fridge is a takeout box. In that box is the most delicious, mouthwatering chicken and cashews in New York, purchased from a tiny Chinese restaurant that has somehow managed to survive every cataclysmic event that befalls that city.

 

It's not that Tony can’t get his own. Hell, he could just buy the restaurant. But Agent Barton brought this on himself.

 

His name in red sharpie, multiple ‘mine’s carved into the top. A note with ‘if you have any shame at all Stark, you won’t touch my chicken’ pinned to the side by a tiny arrow.

 

It’s like he’s begging for Tony to take it.

 

Though the thing about shame is low. Tony has shame. Lots of it.

 

Tony rounds the corner into the kitchen and stops short because what the hell?

 

 “Holy Mother of Shit!”

 

It’s Loki, God of Lies, Mischief, and general WTF who lacks the shame. And inhibitions.

 

And clothing, apparently.

 

“Laundry day?” He finally asks. Loki shoots him an annoyed look and continues to rummage through the cabinet. Jars and bottles line the counter tops. Some are open and a few, such as the Nutella and the strawberry jam, are empty.

 

The trickster god himself is standing without a stitch of clothing, completely unconcerned by his nudity.

 

Tony blinks hard and rubs his eyes before he concludes that no, he is not that drunk and yes, there is a buck ass nude god in his kitchen.

 

It’s a fine ass, but c’mon!

 

“You’re breaking one of Cap’s rules right now,” He settles for that.

 

“I am not allowed to indulge a late night craving?” Loki licks peanut butter off his finger and makes a face.

 

“There’s only one kind of of sausage allowed out in this kitchen. The _food_ kind.” It’s weird to be telling someone to actually put their clothes on. This strange aversion to other people’s nudity must be how people with siblings feel. Or Steve. So this is what it's like to be Captain America?

 

It’s not exactly new. Thor has a thing for being naked. When the God of Thunder first took up residence in the tower, everyone found out real quick that not only does Thor sleep naked, but he comes down to breakfast naked. After two mornings of awkward silence and two mornings of sausage jokes from Clint, Steve sat down with Thor and established the number 14 rule of the tower. No nudity outside your living area. Group events mean no dangly bits in sight. Which puts a bit of a restriction on some of Tony’s activities, but for the sake of peace, he covered the coveted Stark jewels.

 

It seems no one explained this rule to Loki. Since he also kept every bit of skin covered with high necked shirts and long sleeves, no one considered that maybe nudity was a god thing and not just a Thor thing.

 

Which is fine, Tony decides. Fine, fine, and double fine. Loki isn’t as muscular as Thor but damn if he isn’t carved out of white marble. The low light in the kitchen only helps play up every dip and curve. Will Loki get upset if Tony tries to lick his abs? He’ll probably get that ‘you have offended me with your existence and how dare you touch a god’ expression and toss him out another window.

 

He glances down and sees that yes, Loki is a god in every aspect. Risking another impromptu base jump is looking better by the second.

 

Loki pushes a white carton off the counter to make room for an armful of condiments. The carton is covered in red writing…and it’s empty.

 

Barton is going to be pissed.

 

_“Well, it seems Loki ate your food. And his dick is bigger than yours, too.”_

 

Oh yes, the nudity. He should put a stop to this before Steve finds out. However hilarious that conversation would be, it’s also going to be a huge drag if he gets roped into it. Time to put his foot down.

 

 “Look here Rudolf, we already had this talk with Thor about wandering around with his bits hanging out. Now I don’t know what you do up in Viking Land, but down here we keep our junk in our trunks and-What are you doing?”

 

“I don't see why I should don clothing to simply leave my chambers,” Loki snaps and turns away, probably to gather more things from the cabinet. Tony’s gaze sweeps unabashedly up those long legs and over a gloriously tight behind and up to…shoulder blades. Wow, Loki has some wonderful sharp shoulder blades. Tony just wants to get his teeth in there and nibble and bite and-

 

Loki takes a sip of vinegar straight from the bottle and his face twists in revulsion.

 

“How do mortals stomach these foul concoctions?” He shoves the bottle into the sink.

 

-And maybe leave a few red handprints on each shapely cheek. Bruce did say Loki could use a little color and Tony is nothing if not a guy who just wants to help-

 

“Sir, if you are looking for food, might I suggest not looking through the condiments?” Jarvis pipes up oh-so-condescendingly.

 

“Be quiet, voice,” Loki snaps.

 

-A few good slaps might improve that attitude. Spanking the god of mischief and making life easier all at once-

 

“Stark!” Tony’s nice fantasy involving his hands and Loki’s ass is interrupted by the owner of said ass. Who is very close, very naked, and very much looming.

 

“Gah!” Tony lets out an undignified, but completely manly, squawk and back peddles away from the very naked Norse God who fucking towers over him.

 

His back hits the wall and on instinct he presses away from Loki. Instinct and a not-so-fond memory of the last time Loki was that close. He’s reinforced the window, so odds are he’ll just go splat against it instead of going through. Still, ouch.

 

He puts a hand out in front of him to halt Loki’s step forward. He can feel Loki’s breath on his fingertips. It’s surprisingly cold.

 

“Woah! Personal space! We earth folk have this thing called our space, and I don’t like anyone in my space without an invite!” Loki glares at the hand in his face and for a moment Tony wonders if he is about to lose a finger or two.

 

“So think of my space as a house and you’re Dracula and you haven’t been invited! Capiche?”

 

Loki’s focus settles on the glass clutched in Tony’s right hand.

 

“I would have some of that, I think,” He says. He reaches for it.

 

“Sorry babe. No can do,” Tony holds the glass against his chest and it clinks against the arc reactor. Loki frowns.

 

“I desire a drink, Stark. Your voice has been most unhelpful in directing me to anything to my taste.”

 

“My voi-Jarvis?”

 

“Yes, your voice.”

 

“His name is Jarvis. And you,” He waggles a finger in front of Loki’s nose. Green eyes stare past it at Tony. “You are not allowed to have alcohol. Point Break said, ‘Baby Bro does naughty things when drunk off his ass.’ So it was agreed. No booze for you.”

 

“I only desire one-“

 

“Ah Ah! Bad!” To emphasize his point, Tony lifts the glass and gulps the rest of the scotch. It’s a little much to drink at once, but he manages.

 

Loki looks positively murderous and Tony gives him his best wide smile and wonders how far he can push this.

 

“The only way I’m giving you liquor is if I get to pour it over your face. You drink what you catch.”

 

Wow, so it is possible for Loki to look even _more_ murderous, Tony had truly started to wonder if he had hit the limit of Rudolph’s angry face and oh are those fingers yes those are fingers on the back of his neck-

 

“What are you-?”

 

“Be silent.” Loki’s grip on his neck tightens and Tony opens his mouth to call for Jarvis or his suit or even the Captain of America-

 

Loki’s tongue forces its way past his lips and thoughts of help just drop off.

 

Loki’s mouth is as cold as his breath and the strange sensation sends shivers of every kind over his skin. Their teeth click together and Loki seems to be trying to see how far he can reach inside Tony’s mouth.

 

Despite the sudden assault, Tony Stark is anything but passive and he’s enthusiastic in his participation. It’s messy and rough and hot and cold and oh Loki is definitely deserving of the nickname Silver Tongue.

 

One long fingered hand is gripping Tony’s neck and his other is grasping his hip with a grip that is surely going to be an interesting bruise later.

Tony’s hands are not so stationary. He’s got tons of bare skin to explore and pinch and rub and oh yes he forgot about that glorious ass just inches away. Loki’s makes a surprised ‘mmph’ against his mouth when the inventor grabs both cheeks and squeezes. Oh yes, it is a glorious ass.

 

And then Loki is pulling away, roughly dislodging Tony’s grip. His expression is twisted in disgust and Tony’s stomach drops.

 

“That was vile!” He hisses.

 

“The…uh…” Tony swallows and his previously wet mouth is dry, “The kiss?”

 

This is a first. He’s never had anyone call him vile before. Except for that Italian supermodel a few years back. To be fair, she had just been kicked out of his bed by Pepper, so he might have deserved that.

 

Still. _Vile._

 

“How do you drink something so disgusting?” Loki continued.

 

“Drink…?” Wait.

 

“You kissed me to get a taste of my scotch?” Come to think of it, Loki had seemed pretty focused on exploring every inch of his mouth and there was a lot of sucking involved.

 

“You wouldn’t let me have any, what other course of action was I to take?” Loki says dismissively, but there is a flush to his high cheekbones that certainly wasn’t there before. And while Tony is certainly straining against his jeans, he’s pretty sure he isn’t the only one—he looks down—nope, not the only one affected. Loki’s impressive cock isn’t fully hard, but it’s certainly perked up in interest.

 

Yeah, he can work with this.

 

“I’ll tell you what, princess,” He takes a step forward and grasps one nice hard bicep, mostly just to feel the muscle under his fingers. Loki doesn’t move and his green eyes are fixed on Tony with an intensity he likes.

 

“I’ll find the alcohol for you. Something that pleases that godly palate of yours.” He grins, “On one condition.”

 

A dark eyebrow goes up. “Oh?”

 

“We can’t have you drinking too much, so here’s the deal. I’ll take a drink, and you get to use my mouth to taste it.”

 

Now the other eyebrow is up and Tony is prepared for a trip through the window. Is this pushing it? Yep. Is it taking advantage of Loki? Probably? Is it a plot point written by some hormone fueled woman looking for an excuse for two men to get it on? Probably true, too. He’ll have to have Jarvis search the internet for that.

 

“So what do you say? Ready to get another taste of the Stark charm?”

 

Loki sighs and rolls his eyes. Apparently eye-rolling is a universal thing.

 

“Stark,” He finally says, “I will suck it off your cock if you can find something I like.”

 

The sudden sound nearly knocks Tony out of his own skin. Both heads turn to look.

 

Clint Barton is sprawled out on the floor in the kitchen entrance. An expensive vase that Tony never really liked anyway is in pieces next to him.

 

Barton leaps to his feet like a scalded cat and his face is beet red. He avoids looking at Tony or Loki and just backs into the darkness of the hallway.

 

“I’m just gonna…Fuck I’m just uh….I’m—yeah.” He disappears and there is a slam of a ventilation shaft entrance a moment later.

 

The atmosphere is suddenly awkward.

 

“So…” Tony says for lack of anything else. “About the drinks…”

 

The proposal suddenly seems like the stupidest idea in the history of ideas.

 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but his shushed by Loki’s fingers on his lips.

 

And then Loki smiles and steps closer, his fingers tilting Tony’s chin up to look at him.

 

“Tell me, _Tony_ ,” He purrs and Tony goes almost weak in the knees at the way his name sounds on those lips.

 

“When do we start?”

* * *

 

**Bonus**

 

Barton drops into the hallway outside Natasha’s room. He knocks twice on the door and pushes it open.

The room is dark, Natasha is curled up in the bed, but he knows she is awake now.

 

“Tasha,” He whimpers as he crawls into the bed beside her. She shifts and presses against the length of his back to wrap her arms around him.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Hold me." He whispers. "Just hold me."

 

Natasha strokes his head and whispers soothing words of Russian into his ear. It reminds him of Budapest and fire and near-death experiences. It's as calming as the soft thump of her heartbeat against his back.

 

And Agent Hawkeye drifts off to sleep, curled up next to the Black Widow, content in the knowledge that nothing, not even crazy deviant gods or crazy deviant inventors would dare make their way past her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. Again with the humor. The bonus was written at the last minute. Sort-of a "what would Clint do?"  
> I like feedback and constructive criticism. Please feel free to inform me of any mistakes or strange sentences. Keep in mind everyone has their own writing style and the few run-on sentences are generally intentional. But I haven't written anything in almost seven years, so I'm getting back into the flow of writing. I expect my style will improve and change a bit.


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